


Demons

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon!Dean, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22634626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Dean’s cured of being a demon but the things he’s done are a shadow over your head.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	Demons

The knock on the door was quiet and Dean looked up with a weary expression. Being cured had taken it right out of him, much as he imagined it had done everyone else in the bunker, but he wasn’t expecting to see your bloodshot eyes peering at him from the doorway, concern written over your face.

“How are you feeling?” Your voice was a little raw and he swallowed nervously.

“I didn’t think you’d wanna see me,” he muttered, looking away from you, shame coloring his cheeks at the memory of the things he’d said to you. He hadn’t cared at the time, choosing his words as weapons while he was restrained; but now it was hitting him full force.

You shrugged, the gesture laden with the weight of what had happened. “I’m okay. Tired. Been a rough couple days.” He nodded at the joke, pulling his knees up to his chest, his hands hooking over the top of them as he picked at his cuticles. “I’m glad you’re home, Dean.” The statement was quiet and he looked away, unable to face you.

He’d never looked so vulnerable in his life. Not to you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

It was said so quietly, you almost missed it. “Wasn’t you,” you dismissed, leaning against the door, arms folded over your chest. “Not entirely.” He risked a glance up at that but you had your eyes on the floor. He could see the bruises around your wrists where he’d caught you; his fingers clenched around his knees at the memory.

“I was a monster,” he whispered. “Think I still am.”

The comment made you look up and you clenched your jaw. With one swift move, you shut the door, walking closer to the bed. “You’re not a monster, Dean. You were a demon. Demons… do bad things.”

“I still feel it inside,” he replied as if he hadn’t heard you speak. “Like a dark thought curling in my head. I hurt Sam. I hurt you. The things I said -” He cut off with a wince and you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to block out the spiteful words he’d said to you.

_Just hanging around like a pathetic stray._

_Liability._

_Neither of us wanted you here._

_What, did you think you’d get a pity fuck?_

_Sweetheart, you’ve got nothing Dean wanted. Never will. Should have left you to die in that house where we found ya._

It hadn’t been Dean. You had to keep telling yourself that, despite the small part of you wanting payback, wanting to tell him it was his fault. That you hadn’t hung around because of that and he was wrong. You wanted to hurt him with words like he’d hurt you.

You wanted to deny that you’d been in love with him since he’d kicked the door of the house down and rescued you from the witches intending on sacrificing you to some deity. Dean had always been your shining knight. You weren’t much cop as a hunter; you tried your best but preferred to hang back and do the research. Hell, since finding the bunker, you’d been in your element.

Apparently, the demon version of Dean could see straight through your platonic pretense. Could see that you wanted more than friendship from him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, and your eyes opened, focusing on his huddled form. He looked so small, so tired; things Dean never looked. The man full of bravado and swagger wasn’t there right now, and you hated it. Hated that he’d done this to himself and hated that you and Sam hadn’t been able to stop it.

Taking a breath, you sat on the end of his bed, looking over at him, unsure of how to start. He still refused to look at you, and you dropped your attention to your hands, looking at the dry and cracked skin.

You needed to get your nails done. One of the few luxuries you allowed yourself.

Dean took a breath, drawing you away from your distracting thoughts and you smiled at him, attempting reassurance. He frowned, unclear on your intention.

“How can you stand to be around me? You should be kicking my ass.”

With a frown, you shook your head. “The things you said… they hurt. I wasn’t… I knew it wasn’t really you. But they still hurt.” You shifted a little and Dean dropped his legs down, his complete attention on you. “But I don’t want you to think I can’t move past that. You’re one of my best friends, Dean.”

“That’s not it,” he muttered and you felt the heat drain from your face. “I hurt you. And hurting you is… I can’t… you’re the last person I wanted to hurt, Y/N. The things I said were - they were lies.” He stood up, shaking his head. “Whatever I was, there’s no excuse.”

“It’s okay.”

He exploded then, practically leaping from the bed, all the pent up frustration at what had happened coming out. “It’s not!” Drawing back in alarm, you went still, watching him closely as he ran his hands through his hair, looking like he’d almost pull it out. “You’re the one person I should never hurt! Fuck, Y/N, I shouldn’t, but I do, and it’s so fucking stupid.”

“What?” His angry rambling made no sense and you stared at him, surprised when he lifted his head and laughed bitterly.

“I fell in love with you, and it’s gonna get you killed.”

A stunned silence filled the room as he hung his head, leaning against the wall, keeping his distance from the bed. His palms covered his eyes while you stared at him in confusion, trying to process what he’d said.

“You… you’re what?” Your voice was a cracked whisper; Dean shook his head, dropping his hands from his face.

“I’m an idiot. That’s what. I should have known better than to get…”

You interrupted, narrowing your eyes in disbelief. “You’re in love with me?”

“It’s what I said.” He looked up, red-rimmed green eyes staring at you, almost _through _you, they were so intense. “And it’ll kill you.”

Uncertainty clouded your thoughts, and you got to your feet, standing there, staring at him. So many questions filled your head that you were unable to pick just one, so you simply stood there, watching him. Dean’s entire body slumped in defeat against the wall - did he expect you to leave now?

He sighed but the noise didn’t make you move. “If you want to go, go. It’d probably be safer. I might not be a demon anymore, but there’s still plenty about me that should make you run. I’m cursed. Always have been, always will be.”

The urge to go him soared in your chest, but you held back, your hands clenching into fists at your sides. “I don’t want to go,” you said, keeping your tone low and even, which was difficult considering the emotion swirling in your throat, practically choking you. “I never wanted to go. You knew. The demon knew. I’ve always been in love with you, Dean. It’s always been you.” Your eyes shone with unshed tears that you refused to give into. “But you knew that already. God, even I know it was obvious.”

He didn’t speak and neither of you broke eye contact, but you could see the reluctance in his eyes. The same lingering word he’d spoken with black eyes. _Liability_. Whatever demon you and Sam had cured, it was nothing compared to the demons in his head, the ones that would hang over any relationship you had.

Without breaking away from his gaze, you stepped forward, reaching up to touch his face with a shaking hand. He flinched a little at the contact – the first proper contact he’d had since being cured – but you carried on, leaning up on tiptoes to press your lips to his. The kiss was warm, tentative, until his body slowly relaxed, your mouths melding together in a gentle caress.

When you broke away, you felt something shatter into pieces deep in your chest, an almost physical pain.

You turned from him, and left the room, heading to yours and packing your bag, faintly hoping he’d stop you. The hope faded with every second; Dean never appeared.

Within ten minutes, you were on the road in your battered old pick up, tears blurring your vision as you drove.

It was altogether easier, and harder, if you walked away first. Time to stand on your own two feet.

_A year later_

Sitting in the front seat of your truck, you watched the house carefully, sipping at your coffee. You were three hours into a stake-out, and your partner, Tommy, was practically snoring in the passenger seat. Rolling your eyes, you checked your phone, finding nothing to keep you occupied.

The rumbling of an engine made you sit up, reaching over to slap Tommy’s leg. He jumped, flailing his arms around like he was ready for a fight and you giggled. He wasn’t the most experienced hunter, but he had guts where others didn’t.

The engine stopped, and you narrowed your eyes, trying to get a glimpse of the car that had pulled up to the house you were watching. There were demons in the residence; you’d been trailing them for a week, trying to figure out exactly what they were up to. They hadn’t killed anyone, hadn’t taken anyone hostage – it was puzzling and suspicious.

“Two guys,” Tommy said, as the car doors opened and slammed quickly. The two men he could see marched forward, passing underneath a street light as they approached the house and you froze.

Shit.

“We need to go,” you muttered, and Tommy looked at you in confusion.

“Why?”

“Because those are the Winchesters.” His eyes widened in realization and you turned the key in the ignition, ready to bolt. You were so not up for any kind of reunion today, not since you’d left Dean after that stupid confession. You’d kept up with their exploits of course, knew Dean had gotten rid of the Mark and unleashed the Darkness at the same time, but to go back after what had happened?

“Hey!” Sam’s voice pierced the noise of the pick up trying to start and you panicked.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Tommy asked. “These guys are legends. They could help.”

“This is only supposed to be recon,” you growled, begging your truck to start, but it refused and Sam was suddenly at your window, the recognition on his face clear to see.

“Y/N?” he asked, opening the door and you shrank back, wishing the ground would swallow you. Tommy glared at you in surprise.

“You know them?”

“Where have you been?” Sam’s voice was high-pitched as you reluctantly climbed from the truck, your whole body tense when he wrapped you in a bear hug. You closed your eyes, still waiting for the hole in the ground. It didn’t come and as Sam finished hugging you, he pulled away smiling. When you finally opened your eyes again, they landed straight on Dean, stood behind him, looking at you with a mixed expression of relief and shock.

Tommy climbed out of the passenger seat, coming around the truck, irritation on his face. “Anyone wanna answer me?”

“Tommy,” you breathed, not taking your gaze off Dean, even when he looked over, visibly scrutinizing the other man. “This is Sam and Dean Winchester. Sam, Dean, this is Tommy Hoffner. We hunt together.”

Tommy held out a hand to Sam, who took it, shaking with a polite smile. “Pleasure. Heard so many stories about you guys. Real legends.”

“Er, thanks?” Sam muttered, looking confused as Dean reluctantly shook Tommy’s hand, the irritation on his face evident. “Y/N, I don’t understand - why are you here?”

“Demons.” You gestured to the house. “We were keeping watch, seeing what they were up to.” A shrug lifted your shoulders. “Wasn’t aware there was anyone else on the case.”

“We weren’t here for that,” Dean spoke, his eyes back on you.

Tommy chuckled. “Man, I can’t believe you know the Winchesters, Y/N. That’s wild.” Dean’s look of irritation turned to disgust, and your cheeks heated up. Tommy was a nice guy but he wasn’t subtle and wasn’t the brightest. Truth be told, it was just nice to have company. Maybe you’d learned to live alone but you never enjoyed it. “You never told me.”

“We used to… hunt together.” You gave him a tight smile. “It was a long time ago.”

Dean didn’t speak, but Sam smiled, laying a hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “We miss having you around,” he said quietly. “Things got a little tough.”

“So I heard.” You looked at Dean for any reaction but quickly drew your eyes away when he glared at you intensely. “Well, if you guys are dealing with this, we’ll er, we’ll just be going.” Tommy looked disappointed, but a glare from you stopped any vocal protest. He scowled and hunched his shoulders. “It was nice seeing you.”

You turned away only to hear Tommy speak, and you cursed him a thousand times for it, rolling your eyes. “Hey, we’re staying at the Horseshoe Motel just outside of town. You guys should come by for a drink. I’d love to hear some stories.” His tone was almost adoring and you decided that you’d probably be hunting alone from now on. Company was trouble.

“That’d be nice,” Sam replied, hesitant but polite as always, and you shivered, climbing into the truck and forcing a smile onto your lips. You waved at the brothers, sighing in relief when the truck finally responded to the key and you put your foot down the second Tommy shut his door.

Now all you had to do was get back to the motel and run before they turned up.

It wasn’t going to be that easy.

Tommy insisted on staying and quizzed you as soon as you argued the point. You avoided the truth, resorting to lies to get out of seeing the Winchesters again.

“I’ve got a headache. I’m gonna go to my room and lay down.” Waving off his concern, you retreated as quickly as you could, back to your single room. You never shared rooms with Tommy; his feet smelled like the worst garbage dump on the planet and he snored like an angry bear with sinus problems.

All you could do was hope that the Winchesters never took Tommy up on his offer, that they’d dismiss it as fangirling.

Luck wasn’t on your side - half an hour later, you heard the Impala pull up. Glancing out of the window, you saw Tommy lounging out the front with a cigarette, greeting the other hunters as they arrived. You couldn’t make out what they were saying but you let the curtain fall down and darted to your bed, turning the light off.

Maybe they’d think you were asleep and not knock. Either way, you’d be ignoring it.

The expected knock came two minutes later, and you yanked the cover over your head, closing your eyes tightly. You waited, and another knock sounded before you heard muttered voices outside. There were no further knocks after that, but you heard Tommy’s door slam a few seconds later.

Letting the tension seep from your body, you relaxed into the covers, listening intently, not that you could hear anything from either side of your room. At some point, you fell asleep, drifting off quietly in your warm little cocoon.

When your eyes opened, the room was dark, and you sat up, yawning widely.

“Did you really think I was gonna leave without talking to you?”

Dean’s voice made you jump; you shrieked, covering your chest with your hand as you tried to regain your breathing.

“What the fuck, Dean?” you growled, pulling the covers off of your legs. You stood, turning the bedside light on before stomping to the bathroom, refusing to look at him.

“I’m not leaving, Y/N.” His words were quiet but strong, and you shut yourself in the bathroom, a more pressing need at hand. The door probably didn’t need to be closed that hard - maybe slamming it would get your point across.

Five minutes later, you emerged, and he was sat on the bed, watching the door, his green eyes serious as you stopped and looked at him. He looked tired, leaner than you remembered, a little more stubble on his chin.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Next door, asleep. I wanted to speak to you alone.” His gravelly voice went right through you and you shuddered a little, remaining by the bathroom door. “You left, Y/N,” he accused quietly. “Without saying anything. You just left.”

“You know why I did it,” you replied quietly, keeping your eyes on him. “You were only gonna reject me. I couldn’t stay.”

He shook his head. “You made the decision for both of us.”

“I did.” You swallowed. “Dean, what happened between us was… it wouldn’t have…” The words weren’t coming out right and you sighed, shaking your head. “There’s too much baggage there. You said it yourself that night.”

He smirked. “You kissed me.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“It did for me.” Dean stood up, approaching you slowly, almost like he was cornering a wild animal. You felt skittish, unsure of the situation as he kept coming closer. “You kissed me and… that darkness I felt swallowing me whole was just gone.” His hand came forward, brushing your messy bed hair behind your ear. “But then you were gone too.”

There was a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t address, and Dean’s proximity was stirring things inside you that you’d pushed down for months. He was inches from you now, his warm body leaning over yours and you realized just how much you’d missed him.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he continued, his voice softer. “I was terrified you were dead. Cas couldn’t find you. No one had heard anything from you. Then I turn up here and find you with some guy…”

Shaking your head at the way he spoke and his unspoken insinuation that you and Tommy were a thing. “Tommy is… he’s just a partner. Company for the road. There’s absolutely nothing there.” Your voice was a whisper, and Dean nodded, smiling.

“I knew that when I saw you had separate rooms,” he chuckled. “Can’t deny that I’m glad you’re not with him.”

“Dean, it was always you. I meant that. But I don’t want you to think you’re putting me in danger.”

His smile widened. “I know that now. I know that I was an idiot for ignoring this for so long. Shoulda just admitted it in the first place. Maybe then… maybe then we wouldn’t be where we are now.” His thumb stroked over your cheek. “I missed you.”

That was all it took. A cacophony of ignored feelings rose like a tide inside you, that bone-deep longing for his touch spurring your movements. You reached up, pulling him close, kissing him; harder than you had a year before. Too many dreams, too many nights twisting in your sheets over one kiss made you desperate and wondering what it would be like to have more.

His lips were soft and yielding, his hands cupping your face as if he was afraid you might disappear again. You moaned into his mouth, your hands slipping down over his shoulders, pushing his jacket off of him before breaking the kiss. Looking up at him with shining eyes, you sucked in a tiny breath, needing to ask: “You really want this? Me?" 

Dean nodded, framing your face with his fingers, his pupils almost swallowing the green in his eyes as he bent his head again. “More than you know.” The statement was muffled when he resumed the kiss. His hands left your face, unbuttoning the simple blouse you wore, pushing it aside to grope your breasts.

Pulling away, you kept hold of him, guiding him towards the bed as he followed, kicking his boots off as he went. It didn’t take much encouragement for him to push you down, covering your body with his, his lips pausing at yours to find a trail down in between your breasts. You gasped, feeling his fingers unhook the clasp at your back, your shirt and bra quickly discarded to the floor. Dean seized a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until it hardened, a grin on his face as he repeated the process with the other breast. You reached up, threading your fingers through his hair as he ground his hips into you, his arousal evident through the jeans.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered as he looked up from your breast, helping you pull off his shirt. He crushed his bare chest against yours, kissing you again, thrusting his tongue into your mouth as he mimicked the action with his hips, making you pant wantonly when he broke away to unzip your pants. They quickly joined the rest of your clothes on the floor, and Dean stood up, removing the rest of his clothes. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he muttered as you slid your panties down your legs, leaving yourself naked to his gaze. His cock jutted out proudly, and you reached for him, letting him press you into the mattress with his long body.

You whimpered his name, feeling his fingers press between your legs, seeking out the warmth of your pussy, one finger slipping inside easily, your wetness making him groan into your shoulder. “Shit…”

He chuckled, adding a second finger, stretching you out by scissoring them. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this, that every sensation was overwhelming. All you could think of was having him inside.

“You’re so fucking wet already,” he murmured and you gasped, moaning lightly. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Every night,” you replied truthfully, arching your back as he teased your clit with his thumb. “Every damn minute without you was torture. I’m so sorry.”

Ironic you’d be repeating his words back to him after a year.

Dean shook his head, covering your mouth with his again, kissing you as he pulled his fingers from your body, positioning his cock at your entrance. “Ready?” he asked, his breath hot on your lips. You nodded, your hands holding him close as he pushed inside, not stopping until he was fully sheathed in your heat, your bodies as close together as two people could be. He didn’t move for a moment, wanting to savor the feeling, until your hands stroked along his back, urging him on.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his. He moaned into your mouth as your walls fluttered around him, your hips rising to meet every stroke he made, slow and languid. Neither of you was in a rush, and you both knew it. He kept his thrusts smooth, almost liquid-like, his body dragging against yours with each one.

Your orgasm was slow to come but all the more satisfying for it as Dean made love to you on a motel bed that had probably seen too much action like this. His touches were featherlight, almost like he was imprinting you on his memory. You kept your eyes open and on him, not leaving his lips for more than a few seconds, determined to taste everything he had. When you came, he spurred you on, encouragement falling from his lips as he kept the pace.

When he came, he kissed you fiercely, pouring every inch of himself into you, his cock pulsing inside you, filling you with his seed. He didn’t pull away when he was done, the kiss ongoing until you felt the burn in your lungs from a lack of oxygen.

You fell asleep in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, and more content than you’d been in over a year.

Waking up the next morning, Dean wasn’t where he’d been when you’d fallen asleep. The bed dipped at your feet, catching your attention and you shifted to look down. Dean sat at the end of the bed, pulling his boots on, and your heart fell as you sat up, clutching the sheet to your chest.

“Dean?”

He turned, smiling at you, but you knew what was coming. He was going to say all the things you knew he had in his head; you weren’t safe with him, you were better off without him, it had been fun, but he couldn’t risk you. Your heart hammered in your chest and you felt sick.

“I didn’t think you were ever gonna wake up. Breakfast?”

You frowned. “Breakfast?”

He nodded. “You still like pancakes right? With the strawberry syrup?”

“Yeah, but -”

Dean grinned. “I’ll go grab us some. You might wanna pack your stuff up too if we’re gonna get out of here.”

Your confusion was clear as you gaped at him. “We?”

He nodded. “What? You thought I was gonna leave? Without you?” He chuckled, crawling back up the bed to plant a kiss on your confused face. “Sweetheart, if you think I’m going through another day without you by my side, you got another thing coming. Lost you once,” he stood up, patting your thigh as he went, “not losing you again.” You nodded, a little dumbfounded, as he grabbed his car keys. “Don’t think I could fight those demons any more without you. Internal or otherwise.” As he headed for the door, he looked back longingly. “Get your stuff, Y/N. You’re coming home.”


End file.
